There's something about England
by LucyMoon1992
Summary: England's siblings are fed-up with the way their brother is acting. After thinking of all the obvious reasons for his disgruntlement, they finally come to one very solid, albeit perfectly reasonable conclusion; England wants to get laid. And badly. Cue that gorgeous blonde haired superpower who thinks getting into England will be as easy as pie. Heh, life's a bitch isn't it?
1. Chapter One

_Why oh why did I decide to be one of those people who write several fics at one time? Oh right, now I remember, cos I'm a massive jackass! Ah well, you'll thank me in the long run! Anyway, this popped into my head so I had to write it and write it I shall! Enjoy!_

_Chapter One_

* * *

"And _another_ thing…"

Wales shot his oldest brother a look and rolled his eyes. Good God, did he _ever_ shut up? Frankly, both Wales and Scotland were getting fed-up with the way he had been acting lately. Scratch that, they were getting fed-up with the way he had been acting for the past couple of _months. _At first they thought he was just cranky because of his economy but hey, the rest of the British Isles weren't doing too great either and they weren't _half_ as pissy as he was. Then they thought it was because many nations didn't see him as the big-shot anymore. That place had been filled by a loud-mouthed jackass who thought he was the best thing since sliced bread but that didn't click either; their brother wasn't too bothered by that anymore. Been there, bought the T-shirt and he had said he didn't want to go back. So finally they had come to one very solid, albeit perfectly reasonable conclusion.

England wanted to get laid.

And _badly._

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

Wales threw his brother a bored look. "Sure, England. You're completely right."

Scotland just grunted and took a drag of his cigarette. England puffed out his cheeks in exasperation.

"No, you're not. This is important!" He shifted his gaze between Scotland and Wales. "And where the bloody hell is Northern Ireland? She was meant to be here an hour ago!"

"She said she was running late, remember? She text you. She's probably only just landed in London."

England glared. "Well if she wasn't off shagging France, she would have been here by now."

Wales raised his eyebrows. "You're just jealous because you're not getting any."

England scoffed but his cheeks flamed in anger. "Jealous? Of Northern Ireland? Please, Wales, _spare me_. I'm perfectly happy being a singleton, trust me."

"Doesn't mean you don't _want_ to have sex though." Scotland commented dryly, standing up and stretching.

"I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you both. It is absolutely none of your business what I do in my spare-time."

"Yes, knitting and talking to unicorns." Scotland remarked, trying to cover his smirk. "What a fulfilling life you do lead."

England scowled and marched right up to his brother. "Why you insolent, little-"

"Hi, guys, I'm here!"

Temporarily forgetting about his waste-of-a-space brother, England turned to watch his youngest sibling skip into the kitchen, giving him a large grin as she clicked on the kettle.

"Sorry I'm late; the traffic in Paris was mental. Took me an hour and half to get to the airport." She bent down to give Wales a swift kiss on the cheek and did the same to the others. "But I'm here now. What did I miss?"

"England is jealous of you shagging France."

England gave a squawk of indignation and snarled at his family.

"That is _it_! I'm going out the back for a nice, quiet, _undisturbed_ smoke. And when I return we _will_ be civilised! Honestly, why me?" And with that, he marched from the room, muttering incoherently under his breath.

Northern Ireland simply raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Really? France will be most pleased to hear that. He's always saying that England would be his crown-jewel in an already extremely long-list of lovers."

Wales snorted. "And you're okay with that?"

Northern Ireland shrugged and went to make a cup of tea. "We're not exclusive and if he wants England then fine with me. Maybe he might be able to remove that poker that is stuck up his arse."

"And replace it with something else." Wales added slyly, winking at his sister as she laughed.

"You know, that's not actually a bad idea." Scotland said slowly.

Northern Ireland frowned. "I was being funny. He can fuck off; no way is he getting anywhere near my boyfriend."

"Thought you weren't exclusive?" Wales asked, grinning at his sister. She said nothing, simply crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her brother.

"No, no, I didn't mean France. Honestly, Northern Ireland, England would touch him with a barge-pole, no offence." He added quickly when he saw a look of indignation flash across her face. "I mean the part about him getting laid. It makes sense, doesn't it? He's been crabby as hell lately, surely you've noticed."

Northern Ireland pondered for a moment and then nodded slowly. "You're right. He has been crankier these past couple of months for no apparent reason…maybe hooking up someone would be good for him." She paused, considering it. "But why now? England's been single for decades, after that whole Malta debacle and who knows? Maybe he's happy being alone."

"Oh please, Northern Ireland, you know as well as I do that that is complete crap. England is just like any other nation; he needs affection. He's just not very good at expressing it. I bet anything that if we get him with someone, he'll be back to normal in no time…hell, he might even be better!

"The only question is _who_?" Wales asked, staring at his siblings in expectation.

_That_ had them stumped. Who the hell would England want to get with? And really, if he had wanted someone, he could easily get them. He may be a cranky, cynical tosser but he was a Kirkland and by fuck were they not the hottest group of siblings on the planet.

Then, like the angels above were listening to their conversation, Northern Ireland's phone buzzed, signalling that she had received a text. Annoyed by the interruption, she quickly glanced at the message.

_Hey dudette! I'm having a little get together this weekend at my place if you're up for it! I text Eyebrows but I doubt he'll reply; he never does. You can also ask your brothers too, I haven't got their numbers and I'm going to send the frog a text after this. Hope you can make it! __ x_

Northern Ireland stood every still for a moment and then a smile like no other crept upon her face.

"What? What is it?" Scotland demanded, watching warily the maddening look that had suddenly adorned his sister.

"I know exactly who we're setting England up with."

Scotland and Wales glanced at each other. "Well? Who is it?"

Northern Ireland grinned and began to text a reply. "Isn't it obvious? America, of course."

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_Hahahaha! Hope you liked and review please so I'll update; shameless bribing I know! Thanks, LucyMoon1992 x _


	2. Chapter Two

_Hey all, sorry for the long wait, I've had no computer since mine's been broken so just got a hold of my dad's and I'm going to spend the night updating my stories; it's 00.33am now so here's hoping I finish by dawn! Anyway, enjoy!_

_Chapter Two_

* * *

She sat on the edge of her chair for a long moment, staring at her target before taking a deep breath and marching over to him. Okay so the guy may be an idiot sometimes but he wasn't completely thick. He was the biggest country in the world; he had to be doing something right. As Scotland had stated the evening previous, Northern Ireland would have to approach this plan with caution. If she was successful today then their attempts at matchmaking their brother would eventually come to fruition.

Upon sensing someone behind him, the blonde-haired nation turned and looked, smiling when he noticed who it was.

"Northern Ireland." He grinned, gesturing to the chair on his right and she obliged, sitting down beside him. "To what do owe the pleasure?"

She didn't have time for idle chatter; the conference was going to commence soon and she wasn't even meant to be here, England would kill her if he found out she was present.

"Hi, America. Just wanted to let you that my brothers and I will be at your party on Saturday."

He beamed at her. "Great! It's nothing special but you know, it is coming up to Christmas so I was hoping I could get a few of my closest friends around for a small get together."

She flushed. "Thanks, America. I'm looking forward to it too." She gave him a smile and went to leave but then stopped, eyebrows furrowing.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, concerned and she fought to keep the smirk from her face.

"Well it may seem silly but what's the dress code?"

He shrugged. "Just casual, I guess." Then added, "No freakin' woollen jumpers. Tell England I'm throwing a house party, not a nursing home bash."

"Okay." She nodded slowly. "Funny you should mention England because he's the reason I'm asking, actually. He told me to. For some strange reason, he's more worried about his appearance for this particular party. I mean, he was at France's last weekend with me and he didn't care a bit about his attire. But when I mentioned _your_ party, he became quite flustered and insisted I find out what we should wear. Weird, huh?"

The reaction was instantaneous. America's breath hitched and his cheeks tinted very lightly with colour.

"Yeah, weird." Came his strangled reply and Northern Ireland grinned. _Hook, line and sinker._

"But hey, maybe I'm just over thinking things. Perhaps you could chat with him today and comment on his suit? Say that it's nice or something?" He nodded slowly and she smiled, "But don't tell him I told you that he was simply _bursting_ to know what to wear; he seems quite embarrassed...almost like he wanted to _impress_ you." She watched as America grabbed his tie and loosened it slightly. "But anyway, I'm away here, see you on Saturday!"

Northern Ireland gave her friend a quick hug and darted out the door, barely containing her unholy delight at how well their plan was going already.

* * *

"Where the bloody hell is my tie?" England growled, looking around his living room, panic soon filling him. He was going to be late!

"WALES!"

Said nation sauntered into the living room, a smirk quirking at his lips as he watched his brother search, in vain, for his favourite tie.

"You screamed?"

England shot him a glare. "Do you know where my tie is? The one with the blue stripes on it?"

Wales shrugged. Yes, Wales did know where it was. But like hell he was going to tell his brother that. "No idea." He answered airily and threw himself down on the sofa and watched his brother in amusement. After a minute of silence, Wales spoke.

"You know, you should wear that red one with the black stripe through it. I think it looks very well with that suit."

"Do you now..." England murmured, not really listening while looking under an armchair.

"Yes, and I'm not the only one, everyone likes it." Wales smirked. "In fact, just the other day America was saying how you always have since nice ties and he really needs to get more like yours."

England snorted. "Yes, well it _is_ America. If that blithering idiot takes a leaf from my book on anything, it'll be advantageous for him."

Wales's saucy smile slipped, slightly. Okay was he wasn't biting _just_ yet. The smirk grew once more. _Fair enough_, the nation thought, his eyes narrowing on his brother_, it's more fun if it's a challenge_.

"Oh yes," Wales continued, "What's more, he was also saying about how he really likes the suits you wear." Wales smirk grew even more as he added, "He says he thinks you're well good-looking in them."

_That_ got England's attention. He stopped looking behind the curtain and turned to glower at his brother. But Wales could clearly see the blush already adorning England's cheeks.

"Don't be so preposterous, Dylan." He snapped, "Like hell would America say something so complimentary...and not to mention idiotic...good-looking, my arse."

The island nation simply shrugged and rose from his position on the sofa. "I'm just telling you what I heard; you'd think you'd be a bit pleased. It is _America_, after all." He quirked an eyebrow and his lips turned upwards slightly, "He maybe a bit of a prick sometimes but you know as well as I do that he's pretty damn hot."

England scowled as he blushed deeper and Wales had to stifle his laughter. "If you don't believe me then fine but no doubt he'll say something today at the meeting." Wales winked at him. "He might have a thing for you, bro."

"Sod off." England grumbled and Wales chuckled, and went to leave.

"Wait!" England called out and his brother turned, eyebrows raised in question.

"You couldn't bring me that red tie then, could you?"

* * *

Northern Ireland, Wales and Scotland were sitting in the canteen, impatiently, waiting for the conference to end. Usually they didn't come and collect their brother but today was different. They were positively _itching_ to see the embarrassed, blushing face and the incoherent mumbling that went with their sibling when he got the feeling that someone was into him and he clearly liked them back. And considering how Northern Ireland had fooled America and Wales had done the same with England, this side of England was most definitely going to be leaving the conference hall today.

Imagine their surprise then, when as soon as the double doors of the conference room opened, they could hear the very distinct yelling of their brother.

And America.

_Shit_.

They ran to the doors to see the two nations- with the remaining G8 standing around them- glaring at each other furiously.

"You think you're so fucking brilliant," England was saying, his arms over his chest in a superior manner, "with your _Abercrombie and Fitch_ and your _Hollister._ I don't understand for the world of me why you choose make those clothes, considering half of your population can't fit into them."

England's siblings cringed as America's eyes flared with such anger, they were surprised England hadn't burst into flames. Instead, he simply stared impassively at his old colony in disdain.

"At least my people know how to fucking dress themselves." America spat, "What you're wearing today is a clear indication that your sense of fashion is fucking crap and you should just come to these meetings in a _bag_." America could have sworn he saw a flash of hurt swim across England's face at his words but he was too incensed to paid heed to it. "In fact, why don't you do us all a favour and wear a bag over your head as well. Means we won't have to look at your face either."

The whole room went completely silent and then and only then had America realised he had went just a _little_ too far.

England said nothing, he didn't trust himself to. Instead, he simply grabbed his suitcase, gave a curt nod to the other nations and headed for the door. Upon seeing his siblings and in particular Wales, he glared.

"I'll see you three at home." He snarled under his breath and Wales shuddered.

After getting a severe bollocking from Northern Ireland and Scotland, America shot off home, swearing to apologise to England before his party on Saturday. With only the three of them left in the building, they slumped down on the chairs in the canteen and looked at each other in utter bewilderment. There was one thing, however, that they were achingly aware of and probably stood them in good stead for the next attempt;

This plan was going to be _far_ from easy.

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_TBC. Review please, thanks, LucyMoon1992 x_


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